Murder on The Auradon Express
by i-die-for-descendants
Summary: As Mal Bertha steps onto the Auradon Express she is among Auradon's elite. But murder falls upon the train a murderer was among them. They are pitted against each other in search of the true murderer but they'll have to act fast before they are all taken and the only one left standing is the one to stab them in the backs. But who would kill an elite? An outcast or one of their own?


The snow had shown no sign of the storm it would soon bring, there were no hints, no little signs, nothing. The previous day, the snow had fallen delicately onto the land, bringing snowball fights and sledging and days off of schools, the night however brought something different, something colder. A thick layer of snow covered Auradon like a white blanket however instead of keeping that which lay under it warm, it stripped their life away, wrapping around them with an icy embrace.

The trains tracks had gone icy through the night but had not completely frozen over therefore it ran as usual. The train slowly edged forwards, getting closer to its next stop, the grey smoke puffing out of its chimney was barely visible through the thick layer of fog, you would miss it if you hadn't looked close enough. The station was essentially empty, the weather had gotten worse and surely no one was idiotic enough to have left their houses, right? But despite all this there stood a young girl the snow falling on her hooded head. She was not the typical type to get the train and therefore the lack of people let her breath easy, she could not be judged by anyone but her own mind. She thought of what they might say to her, or more likely about her behind her back. Her unruly purple hair hidden under the hood of her purple and black hooded jacket, her baggy grey t-shirt covered in paint, her black jeans with rips in them some there when bought and others added through time and all of this topped off by her worn down boots, was an invitation for gossip, rumours and judgement.

The black train edged closer and the loud hiss of the brakes breaking the girl out of her own thoughts, she placed her heavy boot onto the step of the train, then stopped. This train was for the Auradon Elite, it had taken her almost a year to save up for this ticket, surely, they would notice, they had to notice. They were rich, not blind. But she had to get to Belladonna, Auradon's capital city was waiting for her, that is if it hadn't already forgotten her. Furthermore, this train might be her last chance to make it big, become an Auradon Elite, she chuckled at herself, 'one thing at a time' she thought to herself 'I haven't even gotten on yet'. With that her fingers wrapped around the handle and a heavy push was required to open the partially frozen shut door. As the door opened the young girl was almost knocked back by the heated air that seemed to be circling through the train. The air smelt of perfumes and exotic foods from far off lands. The whole place sunk of privilege. She hoped it wouldn't stick.

The dining carriage was massive, further exotic smells filled her nostrils, making her feel queasy. As she looked around her, her worst fears were realised, she was now among the upper class. She had seen them all before, all of Auradon had, it was impossible to avoid seeing them these days. If you hadn't seen at least one of them on the tv or heard them on the radio, chances are that they are broken, because their voices, their privileged faces were constantly displayed, constantly broadcast, like a propagandic regime with no motive other than to make them look good. But where to start? The food may have been exotic, but these people were the rarest catches of all, and someone, somehow, be it fate or damn good luck, had managed to herd them all together on the one vehicle, it was truly remarkable, whoever had accomplished it had ought to be proud.

The first to catch her eye was the white-haired boy in the large fur jacket. Carlos De Vil. She knew his whole story, everyone did. His mother had run De Vil Fashion before the scandal, the multiple accounts of animal abuse, illegal hunting all on top of her unwell mental being had led to Cruella being locked away and her business going bankrupt. That hadn't stopped her son though, he used whatever money he had saved and rebuilt his mother's empire from a new angle. One free of animal cruelty, Mal now realised his jacket had to be faux fur, for if the boy even looked at an item made with real fur it would be the scandal of the century. De Vil's Fashion had been the biggest fashion company in the world before its fall and thanks to Carlos it had quickly rose up again, this time with competition. And she was sitting two seats away from him.

Evelyn Grimhilde, the picture-perfect princess. She had been a model and had one 'Miss Fairest' 5 years in a row and while she had no official royal status, that had all been done away with many years ago in Auradon, that hadn't stopped her from acquiring a title. She had become a lady through her marriage to the young Lord Charming, Chad Charming. Many, including herself had speculated that the marriage had been arranged and that there was no real love between the two, but the rumours were denied hidden with laughs and forced smiles. She was sickeningly perfect, she owned property, rehabilitated the homeless, everything Mal could never be, she was. To top it all off she had used money from her new marriage to pursue her passion, fashion. And the shut down of De Vil's Fashion was her perfect start up, and soon she rose. Much to her annoyance Carlos did too and the two were ever competing for the crown in the fashion empire. Mal could hardly believe they were even in the same room together, she was sure they would rip each other's throats, although she considered that might be the reason for the empty seat between them, distance was their ally in this case.

In the booth at her side sat someone with a similar status and their colleague. Benjamin Florian, Governor Benjamin Florian. He was probably heading to Belladonna on important business, to pass a law – less likely, or to smile in photographs and cut ribbons – more likely. The problem with him, she had read, was that he didn't actually do anything, he just made it loom like he was. That of course was before that article had been taken down and the writer sacked, so much for freedom of speech. Here the only way to get freedom, was to take it. Across from him sat his assistant, Jane. She was on her phone, never looking up for more than a second when he spoke to her. She ran his entire life and he provided for hers. The two were never seen apart but the rumours of dating had been denied and called ridiculous, but M always thought she could see a sparkle in the girls eyes when she actually managed to look up at him, maybe the phone was a way to hide from her feelings, or maybe she was just over thinking things.

The next row up provided seating for a muscular tanned male who's hair was longer than Mal's. Jay Abboud, regional tourney player. At least he was. He'd been suspended for excessive violence and anger management problems, of course this verdict lead to several people getting punched in the face. He was probably on his way to watch the semi-finals saying as he couldn't take part in them anymore.

And the last was surprisingly someone Mal was not aware of, he was a mousey young boy with thick glasses and a camera in hand, looking around as if looking for anything that would make him successful. Mal was aware of the feeling. But the last thing she needed was photographs, so she opted to sit in the middle of the two largest fashion icons of the century. There's something she never thought she'd be able to say. She could feel the icy stare of the blue haired girl in the seats beside her, she chose to ignore them and try to look away, but the chill only intensified as the young De Vil had finally come to notice her presence, the chatter on the train had suddenly gone quiet, now whispers. Cell phones stopped clicking and phones where hung up, they were all looking, some more subtle than others. She could see it in the corner of her eye, the blue-haired girl edging closer as if trying to get close enough to speak to her. When suddenly a deep voice broke the silence. "Ticket please".


End file.
